


Now or Never: Christmas With Ocelot

by Kazimir



Series: With Ocelot [2]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Boy just needs love, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Developing Relationship, Eye Contact, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gentle Kissing, Holidays, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Ocelot being sweet, Reader-Insert, There's A Tag For That
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 01:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10652013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazimir/pseuds/Kazimir
Summary: Sequel to Valentine's Day With Ocelot, though it can fare fine as a standalone work. It's only natural to grow close to an assistant, right? It would be weirder NOT to get them a gift, if anything.





	Now or Never: Christmas With Ocelot

**Author's Note:**

> To say this was a long time coming would be the understatement of the year, but my job is finally giving me some days off. I hope my Ocelot isn't too rusty, input is well appreciated.

After your time with Ocelot on Valentine's day and the small but meaningful display of his affection towards you, seemingly mutual affection that, at least on your side, had grown and evolved during the dry, routine activities of the following months, you had, ultimately, grown confused. Not much of his demeanour seemed to have changed, aside from small matters of assistance towards you, as if he was doing what he could to make your life easier, although you believed that your own love-infested, emotional brain very well could have just been blowing things that he would have done anyway far out of context and proportion. The worst part of your situation, though, would probably be the fact that the only thing that led you to the consideration of these thoughts at all was the creeping up of another elaborate holiday.

 

Now, Christmas, the most important Christian holiday, on Mother Base was, **in** **theory** , not supposed to be very important. As an organization very dedicated to a homogeneous mixture of cultures, races, and religions around the world, celebrating any holiday at all on a large scale, **in theory** , was by no means whatsoever encouraged by administration or soldiers alike. Unfortunately, a fair majority of Mother Base staff just so happened to be from the West, and the base had more than it's fair share of men and women of every race well accustomed to the intricate decorating and celebrations that came along with the age-old Western holiday season, and, if not from that demographic, also happened to have about as many soldiers of any other religion more than willing to party and celebrate after months of living on a hot base in the middle of an ocean as you'd expect. As a result of this, the 25th of December was a day of love and closeness between couples previously hidden to avoid punishment from superiors, alcohol and loud music, phone calls to families, alcohol and loud music, love confessions, alcohol and loud music, gift exchanging, and, of course, alcohol and loud music.

 

Luckily for you, you would be participating in none of this. As usual, Ocelot, the man you were said to follow around like a lost puppy at this point (earning yourself an unnatural amount of not-so-flattering nicknames around Mother Base as a result of perceived nepotism on his part) would be taking no part in the night-long celebrations, instead opting to catch up on his paperwork. He invited you to join him, despite the fact that there was already a silent agreement that you would probably be doing whatever he was most holidays, and, thinking back on the day of the invitation, just some passing questions in plain conversation, you found the situation odd. As surprising as it may be, it was general knowledge across the base at this point that, unless out on very important business, Big Boss was a regular at significant parties, scheduled news announcement/events/ect. And, as far as you knew at least, preceding the Valentine's Day incident, there was rarely a time where Ocelot would sacrifice an opportunity to be alongside his long-time friend. Perhaps things with the man really had began to shift in your favour.

 

Despite the pleasant thought, it was no time to be swept away in a wave of wishful thinking. You had work to do, a lot of it too, Ocelot seemed eager to get ahead on his workload following the holiday, and, naturally, you weren't one to interfere with his plans. Strangely enough, the dynamic between the two of you had felt unique and tense once again, though this time in yet another new way. Holidays seemed to bring about a strange type of luck for you, the mornings bringing bad luck and tension with it, only to be succeeded by an afternoon or evening of something you had long been waiting for. This year's Christmas had began with it's fair share of breakfast time spills and travelling -to-Ocelot's-office stumbles, along with the tension of that very moment of course. For such a large holiday, the misfortunes so far were nothing to really complain about.

 

**Thunk**

 

Now they were.

 

You turned your head quickly, to meet shocked grey eyes a few feet away from you. Your gaze lowered slightly, and you finally got to see the mess that you had made. Distracted, you must have moved your arm to quickly as you moved one piece of paperwork to a separate pile for filing, knocking your superior's dark mug of coffee over, directly onto a thick stack of finished paperwork. The heat of embarrassment consumed your face, and you felt tears well up in your eyes as you frantically picked up the paperwork, salvaging the little you could as you avoided the man's gaze, sure that he must have been livid. Turning every which way to find something to clean the mess, though, naturally, you locked eyes once more. Ocelot was leaning his head on his gloved hand, gazing at you curiously, almost dough-eyed. You paused, and he smirked.

 

“You okay this morning?” He chuckled slightly, seeming to find your worry amusing or cute. When you were late to respond, not wanting to be embarrassed further by a voice that may crack and tears that may fall, his smirk faded slightly and he touched your arm in a gesture for you to relax. He surveyed the damage nonchalantly as you kept your gaze towards the floor. “Well,” he began, after a pause, “maybe it's about time for a break.” You uttered a small agreement as he stood up alongside you and headed towards the door, you hesitantly, and him with a confident stride. “This is a good time for a walk anyway, there's something I've been wanting to show you.” shyly avoiding your curious gaze as he held the door open for you. Timidity was out of character for the man, and you couldn't recall the last time you had seen him in such a way since Valentine's day. Now eager as you were nervous to see what was in store for you, your mood lightened slightly, and you grinned as the man and yourself headed towards the administrative barracks.

 

The immaculate room made you snicker. It was exactly what one who knew him would expect Ocelot's room to look like, Organized, spacious, empty. Your amusement seem to've shook the man slightly, him already appearing nervous as you approached the room together, awkward at allowing others into his personal spaces. Atop his made bed was a small red package with a matching bow. You eyed it curiously, a small blush creeping across your features. There was no way it could have been for you. He would ask you to bring it to Boss or some other important administrative figure, being too busy himself to, wouldn't he?

 

Your question was quickly answered as he sauntered over to the object and picked it up with gentle affection unsuited to his large, gloved hands before turning on his heel back towards you. You watched as he put obvious effort to keep his composure, eyes zipping to everything in the room that wasn't your keen face.

 

“It's.... uhm, nothing extravagant, but it reminded me of you.” He grunted simply, his small response a transparent lie, with nothing gift-worthy likely to be around a mercenary base in the middle of an ocean lest one were to look, and hard, for it.

 

“This is for me?” You asked meekly, still drowning in disbelief of the thoughtfulness. Your hand finally came to rest upon the gift he held, his slowly lowering after just a moment of lingering. Your tame reaction gave his confidence space to expand slightly, as his eyes finally met yours. Intelligent grey orbs flooding with softness and unique vulnerability to your approval in the situation. Your heart fluttered and you couldn't contain your grin and finally, after much anticipation and nervous silence, the wrapping paper was being pulled back gently by your hands. Emerging from the bright red paper was a small pattern. It was silky and thin, your favourite pattern in colours you adored. It was a beautiful summer scarf, ideal to protect against the Seychelles sunshine whilst not duelly causing heat stroke.

 

You met his nervous eye and absolutely beamed at him. You tied the soft fabric around you neck eagerly, excited fingers fumbling, and lunged for a hug. His nervousness had fueled _your_ boldness, this time. “I love it.” you mumbled into his chest, his breathing slightly hitched. He radiated a pleasant warmth, smelling of gunpowder and cleanliness, with just a tinge of masculine musk twirling within the concoction, sending an inner warmth down to the pit of your stomach. You pulled away before giving him much of a chance to get his bearings, trying to ensure you don't push him too far from his comfort zone, intimacy on a genuine level seeming to be like new, unusual territory to him. As his rose-coloured face faced yours, your grin drooped, worrying him momentarily, but he seem to've understood your concern.  
  
“Now, now. I don't need anything. As long as you're happy with that, I'm as happy a man as I can be.” You smirked at his comfort, not satisfied with it, and decided to take the situation into your own hands. Now or never.  
You stuck the red bow firmly on your head, earning an amused scoff from him in the process. _Now or never._ You stepped forward again and stood on your toes to reach him and steadied yourself with a grasp on his shoulders. You were met with no resistance. _**Now or never.**_ Your lips connected softly with his. Brief, gentle, warm, _honest._ As you moved your face away from his, your eyes locked. The beautiful grey eyes that you had grown to appreciate – grown to love – were as gorgeous as they ever had been, the emotion hidden behind them fully brought to the surface for only your eyes to see. The eyes of the man who meant more than anything else in the world to you were filled with love. Shy, awkward, cautious, but optimistic love. You waded in the look of his affection in the moment of comfortable silence before you felt those lips on yours once again, instinctively closing your eyes to appreciate his silver scruff scratching your face, long nose bumping into yours adorably as gloved hands gently rose to cup your cheeks gently.

 

You loved holidays.

 


End file.
